No other event in the ministry of Jesus draws our attention and focus to the experience of hope in the midst of grief and loss than does the raising of Lazarus from the dead. 

This is a most powerful scene, one that in many ways can challenge and yet excite us at the very core of our life of faith.

Lazarus has died. Although Jesus knew that he was sick, he remained distant during Lazarus’ time of need. Perhaps, this might sound a bit unusual. Any of us would rush to the side of a sick and dying friend or relative. Yet Jesus chooses not to go.

One can clearly see the intent of Jesus as the passage unfolds, but certainly when Jesus does finally arrive – four days after Lazarus has died – this is of little consolation to his sisters, Martha and Mary.

“Lord, had you been here my brother would not have died,” Jesus is told not once but twice.

Any of us who have been confronted with sickness leading to death – whether it is our own life-threatening ailment or that of a loved one – knows the deep sense of pleading which we send up to God to restore health and to not let the illness lead to death.

As much as we might have faith in eternal life and in the resurrection from death, the pain of loss and the impact that the death of a significant person will have on our lives can, at times, seem to be too much to bear. If the Lord would only heal this person – certainly our faith will be strengthened – but I can have what I want and not be challenged to confront the very fact of life and death itself.

Most assuredly, we have all been there at one point in our lives. There is no question that this is where Martha and Mary are. Jesus, the great teacher and worker of many signs and wonders, who is a close friend of Lazarus, could do nothing to save him from death. The crowd sees this and it causes them to be hardened of heart and even more skeptical of the works of Jesus. 

Jesus must confront then not only the death of Lazarus, but also the dying of faith that is all around him. Indeed, at two specific points in the Gospel, in response to a total lack of faith around him, Jesus lets out this loud groan, almost as though he was exorcising demons. 

Even the disciples seem skeptical. They do not understand why they are returning to the precincts of Jerusalem as the crowd there had so turned on Jesus that he was almost killed just weeks before. Now he has gone back, at risk of his own life, to do – what exactly?

At this point Jesus seems to be demonstrating two different qualities – on the one hand he is most empathetic and clearly impacted as a man by the death of Lazarus. On the other hand, he stands there above everyone and every other consideration focused entirely on what he has come there to do.

Jesus knows well the implications of his actions. When word of what he does here spreads it will bring about a great outcry against him and also to Lazarus. Those who believed him to be a charlatan, to have staged the healing of the blind man, cannot explain away the reviving of a man who has been entombed for four days.

Jesus comes there not only to raise Lazarus but also to open up hearts to the Lord. It would seem that the second task is much more difficult than the first.

Although very few of us ever get to encounter the absolutely miraculous in the sense that we see it in the raising of Lazarus, we do experience the constancy of the love and presence of God in our lives and actions every day.

When Lazarus comes forth from the tomb at the command of Jesus, it is an event that changes everything forever.

While only anticipatory of the resurrection of Jesus himself, the raising of Lazarus points us in the direction of hope – a hope that we can easily overlook at the desperate times of our lives – drawing us to a deeper sense of faith in the power and presence of God.

Dr. Garry Koch is a seminarian for the Diocese of Trenton.